Meg's Discovery
by forgotten child
Summary: [Chapter 3 is now up!] Meg goes down to find Erik after Chrsitine leaves with Raoul. just read...Follows Movie, but has book in it, too. R&R! Might be M&E...
1. Into the Phantom's Lair

Disclaimer: I am not Gaston Leroux, therefore, I do not own the characters. Although, I'd totally own Erik.

I know this is the place to put BOOK fictions, but I couldn't find the Phantom in the movies. This is about the movie. I have read the book. It rocked. Out loud. And I'm done. Read on.

Meg:

The roar of flames had been unheard since the second cellar. The smell of the animals was past them, still in the fourth. Down in the seventh of seven, Meg trudged along the underground river. 'Finally,' the thought, 'it's my turn.'

Why was Christine getting all of the attention? Sure, she could sing, but why was that so great? She was just supposed to be a chorus girl, like her. Even Madame Giry was proud. Didn't Meg exist? And now, with the opera ghost? Again, couldn't he have taken an interest in her? You could call is jealously, but in reality, it was much more.

'I'm there!' She thought, as she stepped onto the concrete. Her trousers were slipping down again. Male clothing was so over-rated for women. Looking around this small house on the river, Meg felt at home. The hundreds of candles lit around the room gave it a secrete glow. The other men were now walking around, looking for the ghost of the Paris Opera House. Meg smiled to herself. 'They'll never find what they're looking for.' It was true. The phantom was a pro at hiding himself from the world. A real Trap-door lover.

Carefully stepping onto another floor, Meg noticed a white mask sitting on the table, next to many scrawled pictures of Christine. It felt cool against her hand as she picked it up and hid it behind her back. Coming back into the main entrance of the lair, Meg saw that there were only a few people still there, and they were leaving.

"They're not here, Monsieur!" she called to one.

"We know, silly girl. Mme. Daae and M. de Changy took the boat, claiming that the opera ghost has left." The rather large man turned back around and went on his way, torch in hand.

-CLINK- came a sound from behind a curtain. Meg looked around, knowing no one was there. She slowly lifted the thick red velvet to see a broken mirror revealing a pathway into darkness. Gripping the mask, she stepping into the dark. The curtain fell behind her, and she was left in utter darkness. Finding the wall with her hand, she pressed on towards the unknown.

After what seemed like ages, but was only about fifteen minutes, Meg heard an angst-filled grunt and a crash, as if someone threw some object in an angry rage. Silence. Then, sobbing. Quietly, the sobs filled the tunnel. 'The Opera Ghost!' Meg thought, hopefully. Suddenly, there was a squeak of a rat beneath her foot. She gasped loudly, then instantaneously regretted it.

"Who's there!" demanded the voice in the darkness. "Who's there!"

"M-Meg Giry, Monsieur," the frighten girl answered.

"What do you want, -Meg-?" He asked, putting a rude emphasis on her name.

"You're mask. I brought you your mask." A flame lit up, and she saw the distorted half of his face.

"My mask?" He walked toward her. She could tell that he had been crying. "And why would you bring me my mask? What is there to hide? Am I –ugly-?" He seemed angry as he approached her.

"No." she answered quietly, and looked down at the mask. She let go of the white and it gracefully hit the stone. She looked up into his in the light the flame. "I came to find you."


	2. Making Yourself at Home

Disclaimer: This is the BEST phantom story EVER! But after this, I may not update for a while. Vacation. Anyway…where was i? oh, yeah…. I ROCK!

"So," Meg said quietly, glancing up. She was still in the dark room, and it had been about an hour. The chilled stone was making her cold, and the rats were starting to make her feel a little discomfort. Erik sat across the wide room and, under the glow of a torch, wrote notes into staffs on paper. He looked up at her angrily.

"You don't have to stay," he said.

"I know," she looked down and her long blonde hair cascaded down her shoulder, "But I was hoping. . ." her voice trailed off.

"You were hoping that I would fawn over you as I did for Ms. Daae." He rose and began walking towards her. His form began disappearing into the darkness surrounding both of them until he was completely invisible to her. She felt his strong hand reach for her body as if he could see her in the night. He hugged her close and she felt his warm anger. He began stroking her hair, and she let her hands relax on his strong back. He pushed her back roughly.

"Is that what you wanted?" he huffed. Erik grabbed the torch and swung it into the wall, where a puddle put it out. Meg only new his movements from sound, and so she knew he was headed back towards his lair. With her hands before her body, she walked on in the direction of the phantom.

"You don't have to follow me," His voice filled the tunnel.

"The how will I get out?" she asked, afraid he would lead her in the wrong direction. She was so amazed he could see so well in the dark. Like a cat.

"I mean back there. You didn't have to follow me back or even stay for that matter. What do you want from me?" His voice was getting closer to her, and suddenly she walked into his body, her hands grabbing his damp shirt in fear. She let out a startled gasp. "What!" he asked, louder than before. The girl felt scared, as if she were about to cry. She tried not to look him in the eye, or more so, in the darkness where she thought his face would be.

"I-I don't know. . . I mean, I–" The man grunted. She felt his strong hands grip her wrist.

"Come on," He mumbled to her. "Hate to see you lose yourself."

After a few minutes, she began to see the dim light of the house on the lake. Once inside, or rather, outside, he let go of her forearm. He laid his mask down on a table by the organ.

"You may sleep in my bed tonight," he said quietly. Meg's eyes lit up.

"You mean the bed that Christine–" she stopped suddenly. An overwhelming feeling that she'd said too much came over her, from the cold, angry stare of the phantom's eyes. He stood there looking at her for so long that when he blinked, she gave a startled jolt. He brushed past her.

"This way," He led her into another room where there sat a large, golden swan bed furnished in Persian silks and velvets, all in the same, passionate color: red. "You may sleep here tonight; it is very late for you."

Meg, after Erik left her alone in the room, kicked off her big, wet boots and climbed under the covers. The bed was unbelievably soft, and she fell right to sleep, dreaming enchanting dreams that only the phantom's tomb would allow.


	3. Outside the Oprahouse

Disclaimer: I own not any of the characters in this story. Except for the ones I make up, but I'll tell you if I do. XD

Now this chapter is how it SHOULD have been right after the opera house burned. Yes in-deedee

Madame Giry stood in horror as her beloved Opera House burned to the ground. Around her, hundreds of Paris' upperclassmen and women began to regain themselves again. At a gasp, she began searching frantically for her only child, who had disappeared as was showing Monsieur de Chagny the way down to Erik's home. "Meg! Meg!" she screamed at the dirty faces of the wealthy.

"Madame Giry!" came a voice from behind her a ways. She stopped and turned around, grabbing the familiar being. "Madame Giry, is everything alright?" Christine asked, out of breath.

"Where is Meg? Where is my child?" the older lady's fingers dug into the young girl's soft flesh.

"I-I don't know," Christine's eyes filling with fear too. "She can't be in harm. She knows the opera catacombs as well as I." Madame Giry held Christine still and looked her dead in the eye.

"That's what I'm afraid of," she whispered.


End file.
